


Pocket Sized

by Lil_Lizard_Leah



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon Universe, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Macro/Micro, Oral Sex, Pennywise (IT) Being an Asshole, Period-Typical Homophobia, Porn With Plot, Shrinking, Size Difference, Size Kink, Smut, Spit As Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-11-28 14:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20968073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lil_Lizard_Leah/pseuds/Lil_Lizard_Leah
Summary: “No one will find out this way, Richie. You can touch me as much as you want, and no one will ever know. I’m the easiest secret to hide; small enough to fit in your pocket.”





	Pocket Sized

**Author's Note:**

> This was given to me as a prompt for Kinktober, as something out of my comfort zone to challenge myself. I hope I did it justice! I've never even read a micro/macro fic before, as it's not really my thing, but I had a lot of fun with this. Also, this is my first time ever writing something that takes place in the canon world, so let me just take a moment to say FUCK PENISWISE.
> 
> (also in this fic even when pennywise is in hibernation or whatever, he's still able to terrorize derry in various ways, so... just go with it)

If living in Derry had taught Richie anything, it was to not be surprised by the sheer weirdness of the going-ons in their town. By the age of 17, so many inexplicable circumstances had wrapped their claws around Richie and dragged him through the mud that he’d have permanent dirt stains on his soul forever.

Things had certainly settled down in the years since him and the other losers had faced Pennywise; a child-eating clown had its way of making other things look small in comparison, but there were still moments when Richie’s spine shook with the frightening reminder that Derry was not a normal town. Like when he’d catch a glimpse of a headless man driving by him on the highway, or when spiders crawled out of Mary Gretsky’s ears in homeroom.

In all the Derry weirdness he’d encountered, however, what was before him was horrifying of a whole other variety.

“E-Eddie?” Richie stuttered out, still unbelieving what his eyes were telling him. Upon his bed, settled on his pillow like a chocolate truffle at a hotel, was what appeared to be a miniature sized version of his best friend.

A voice responded, familiar, but pitched higher than normal. Richie had to get closer to hear what it was saying.

“Yes it’s me, you idiot. What, do your glasses suddenly not work?” The small Eddie squeaked with a smirk on his lips.

Richie considered it for a second. _Could_ it be his glasses causing this… absurdity? Maybe if he took them off, blinked, and squinted _really_ hard, Eddie would be back to normal. Blurry, but back to normal. He tested the theory, only for Eddie to turn into an out of focus fuzz, now even smaller than before. Richie readjusted his glasses and sighed, admitting defeat to the strangeness that had introduced himself.

“Well excuse me for being a little surprised when I walk into my room and find my tiniest friend has shrunk to an even tinier size.”

“I did it for you… you don’t like it?” Eddie pouted.

“I- you- what?” Richie’s head reeled with the inability to understand all the impossible things developing around him, a pressure creeping itself behind his eye sockets.

He blinked, and suddenly found himself sitting on the bed. He didn’t remember sitting down… didn’t remember walking across the room or dropping his backpack on his desk chair. Yet somehow his environment had changed as if a scene cut in a movie.

A small tickle on his hand brought his attention back to the present. He looked down and saw Eddie was sitting in his palm, idly playing with one of his fingers in curiosity.

“What do you mean you… did this… for me? How- and- and why?” Richie raised Eddie to eye level, holding his hand flat so Eddie stayed cradled within it.

“I know you think about me.” Eddie giggled, as if delighted he’d discovered a secret that Richie hadn’t told anyone. Richie felt his throat begin to close and his ears ring hot.

“You think about how small I am, how big your hands are when you splay them across my back to steer me in the hallway or steal my drink from my hold when we’re at lunch.”

Eddie was reading Richie like a book, a book that Richie himself didn’t even read for fear of indulging in its sinful contents. How had he… how could _anyone_ have known? Richie kept these feelings locked up deep inside; didn’t even dare write his feelings down in a diary, too worried the homophobia around him would materialize into a monster capable of reading and spread all of his dirty thoughts to the world.

“I thought you’d like it even better if I was smaller.” Eddie finished.

When Richie looked back down, he found Eddie completely nude. There weren’t clothes strewn about, it was as if they’d just vanished, as if Eddie had never been wearing them in the first place.

Eddie was smaller alright. In fact, he couldn’t have been bigger than seven, maybe eight inches at most. Richie wanted to laugh at the fact that miniature Eddie was still bigger than Richie’s dick by a couple of inches, though he’d never admit it to anyone.

“Come on Rich, don’t you wanna touch me?” Eddie goaded, tugging on Richie’s thumb impatiently as if he wasn’t giving him enough attention.

“Eds, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Something really weird is going on and I- you’re not yourself right now-”

“I’m better.”

“No, you’re-”

“No one will find out this way, Richie. You can touch me as much as you want, and no one will ever know. I’m the easiest secret to hide; small enough to fit in your pocket.”

Richie knew something was wrong, could feel it creeping up his spine and nudging at the back of his head. But he’d wanted this for so long, had repressed these feelings and thoughts and wants for years… it was hard to deny this little moment of pleasure.

Holding his one hand still, he lifted his other with shaking fingers, but paused halfway when he realized he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Sure, he’d jerked his own cock before, but he’d never… and Eddie was so _small_ now… how was he even meant to…

Eddie smiled calmly, a calm that should have been reassuring, but churned Richie’s gut with nerves instead. Eddie turned over in his palm, getting on all fours and holding on to Richie’s index and ring finger to keep himself steady. What presented itself to Richie was a beautiful sight; two round cheeks spread to reveal a hole so small it looked more like a beauty mark than anything.

Richie finally decided on bringing his finger up and running it down Eddie’s back. Light goosebumps erupted on that tan, freckled flesh, and it caused the same reaction on Richie’s skin as he swallowed thickly.

Repeating the motion, he ran his finger down Eddie’s back, but this time let it slip down between those cheeks that held the promised land Eddie seemed to be offering.

“Fuck…” Richie breathed heavily, just noticing for the first time how hard his cock was in his own pants. He’d been too caught up in the weirdness of it all to think about how undeniably hot this was.

“You don’t have to be so gentle with me, Rich. I’m not gonna break.” Eddie teased, arching his back a little farther. Richie didn’t quite believe him, took in how tiny he really was and thought it impossible to touch him without wrecking him… but wrecking him sounded pretty good, if Richie was being honest.

Richie brought his hand up to his mouth and darted his tongue out, just once, testing the waters as he lapped at Eddie’s entire backside before pulling away.

Eddie moaned surprisingly loud for such a small body, petering off into a whine as he was pulled away from the wet heat.

“Do that again.” He begged, pulling on Richie’s fingers like they were controls to a machine.

So, of course, Richie obliged. And then again. And then a few times more until Eddie had sat up on his heels and began fucking himself on Richie’s tongue. The tip of it slipped between Eddie’s legs and provided friction for his cock and balls, while the brunt of his tongue stood in as a makeshift chair, on which Eddie writhed like he was on fire.

Richie, meanwhile, was trying to undo his pants one handed, which proved to be a feat harder than it sounded. He imagined it was probably a hilarious sight, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, drooling into the palm of his hand, while his other struggled to get a simple belt undone.

Once he’d finally freed his ruddy cock and gotten a hand around it, Eddie was crawling off his tongue and situating himself on his back, legs spread lewdly in a way that framed a tiny cock of his own. It almost didn’t look real, looked like it might have been molded from clay within a thimble, but the sheen of pre-cum that coated the head proved otherwise.

“Fuck me, Richie.” Eddie said, reclining even further against where he rested against Richie’s fingers.

Richie had to squeeze the base of his cock to keep from cumming immediately. Surely, he couldn’t, there was _no way_ Eddie’s body could take it-

“I can take it.” Eddie answered, as if reading Richie’s mind through his trepidation.

Richie inspected the area, noting that Eddie’s cock, thighs, and ass were all _literally_ dripping with saliva. In fact, he was sort of laying in a small puddle of it, though he didn’t seem at all bothered. Richie wondered if he should still grab the lotion he kept on his bedside table, just in case they needed extra lubrication, but then Eddie was writhing again and ushering the thought to the furthest corner of Richie’s mind.

“_Please_\- Richie- I _need_ you-”

“Right, yeah of course, uhhhhh-”

Richie looked down at his own weeping cock, and then around his room frantically, as if he would be able to find something to help him out. A third hand maybe? He finally settled for laying across his bed on his stomach, pillow under his chest and hips pressed firmly against his soft bed sheets. He propped himself up on his elbows, so both of his hands were in front of him. From this angle, it looked a bit as though he was acting out a puppet show. If it weren’t for the pulsing reminder of the adulthood between his legs, he’d almost have slipped into memories of playing with childhood toys.

With expert precision, Richie eagerly lined his pinky finger up with Eddie’s entrance. From up close, it looked more like a tiny rose bud, puckered up invitingly and fluttering every time Eddie moaned, needy and desperate. Richie swallowed once, held his breath, and began gently pushing against the ring of muscle.

To Richie’s shock, it opened with zero resistance, almost sucking Richie’s finger in until he hit the first knuckle. Now, Richie didn’t know much about bodies, or sex, but he knew from the whispers he’d heard under the bleachers at school that “taking it in the ass hurts” and “queers enjoy the pain”. So, suffice to say, this seemed abnormal. But then again, what wasn’t abnormal about your best friend shrinking to the size of a doll and begging to be fucked.

“_More_.” Eddie moaned, trying to shift himself down further on Richie’s smallest finger. The sight was obscene in the most intoxicating way.

Richie pushed a little and watched as Eddie’s body took him to the second knuckle. Eddie’s lower stomach bulged, and it made Richie grind his hips down into his mattress with an intensity he’d never felt before. God, he felt nauseous and lightheaded and dizzy but so delighted, drunk off Eddie’s cries, spurred on by his encouragements.

Eddie’s hole slid up and down his finger with ease, fitting him like a ring. Richie didn’t have to do much moving, much like with his tongue earlier, Eddie was happy to take control and fuck himself down on to Richie’s hand. Richie was thankful, honestly, because with his current level of arousal, he wasn’t sure if he could focus on much more than rutting into his bed.

“So good- fuck- so small, Eds-” Richie’s tongue was heavy in his mouth, his words slurring out between his lips without permission.

“See? Doesn’t this feel good, Richie? Letting go, giving in to the darkness.” Eddie’s voice didn’t seem to match his body, floating by almost as if whispered by the wind. It made the hair on Richie’s body stand on end, but he was too far gone to care.

Eddie’s small frame was clenching around Richie’s pinky, giving warning to his oncoming climax.

“Rich- _Richie_\- fuck, Rich!” And with a cry that rang almost eerie, Eddie was convulsing in Richie’s palm. His toes, no larger than jellybeans, curling in on themselves, as his torso buckled over and he clung around the base of Richie’s pinky finger to steady himself.

He composed himself shockingly quickly, sitting back up, still impaled on Richie’s finger, as if he hadn’t just had the life fucked out of him. His eyes locked with Richie’s, and with urgency, he asked Richie something that would forever be seared into his mind.

“Cum on me.”

Richie’s hips stuttered from where they’d been rhythmically humping himself closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck…” Was all Richie could say before he was scrambling up on his knees, bringing the palm of his hand that held Eddie just under the head of his cock, and began pumping himself with the other.

It didn’t take long, maybe all of five seconds for Richie to be pouring into his own hand, watching as Eddie’s body was completely coated in the white, sticky mess. Something yelled in the back of his mind, reminding him ‘Eddie would hate this! Eddie would think this was unclean!’ but he ignored it in favor of watching the fantasy play out right before his eyes. It was too tantalizing not to.

Once all the shocks had wracked his tall frame, and he’d gotten as much out of his spent cock as he possibly could, Richie collapsed onto his back. He held his hand, and subsequently his cum covered Eddie, above the mattress, avoiding more of a mess than necessary. He let his eyes drift shut for a moment, his head spinning with thoughts of what just happened, and what comes next.

Richie reopened his eyes a moment later, clarity starting to come back to him as if he’d just woken up from a dream. He sat up, prepared to discuss the inevitable, when he found his hand empty, bar for his own cum. Feverishly, Richie’s eyes darted around his bed, his desk, his bookcase, even peered at the window, but there was absolutely no sign of Eddie anywhere.

“… Eddie?” Richie whispered into the empty room, his heart clenching when there was no reply.

Had… he imagined all of that? No, there was no way, it had been too _real_.

His phone ringing from across the room caused him to jump out of his skin, darting over to it before the rest of him could even respond. He had the receiver pulled to his ear so fast his cock was still hanging out of his pants. He tucked it away shyly and grabbed a tissue to clean up his hand while greeting whoever was on the other line.

“Now, didn’t IT feel nice?” A voice sang from the other end of the line, a voice not unfamiliar, but not easily placeable. It was a little rough, and high pitched like an adult trying to mimic a child. The voice had odd inflections, kind of drawn out but not in a dull or drowsy way.

“W-what?” Richie found himself stuttering out of fear, then immediately chastising himself for becoming big Bill over a measly phone call. He cleared his throat and retried, this time making sure to puff out his chest in a faux display of confidence. “What?”

“I said, didn’t it feel nice?”

Richie froze. A new voice, one he knew like the back of his hand.

“Did… what… feel nice…” Richie asked cautiously.

“Wow, okay, your diet of coke and licorice really has made you brain dead. I_ said_, didn’t it feel nice to have real energy, instead of the sugar high you’re always running on? I can try and get my mom to pack me extra salad tomorrow too, but only if you promise not to spit the pieces of carrot back into my container again.”

Richie vividly remembered what Eddie was referring to. Earlier at lunch, they’d shared his salad since his mom had packed him too much, and Richie, as per usual, had packed 5 dollars in a paper bag along with a can of soda. What he couldn’t remember, however, was how he’d gotten on the phone with Eddie in the first place. Had he been here long? His head felt foggy, his thoughts turning to molasses when he tried to wade through them.

“Eds, did you call me just to talk lettuce?” Richie pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning his elbows against his desk and hunching forward.

“Uh, you called me… Rich, what’s going on?”

Panic rose up like bile in Richie’s throat, and it’s the panic that caused him to ask what came next.

“Were you in my room earlier?”

The silence was tense as he waited for an answer.

“What are you talking about?” Eddie asked slowly, the humor in his voice verging on anxious, like he felt he was being left out of a joke.

Richie sighed, slumping lower in his chair and letting his hand fall from his face.

“Nothing, never mind.”

“Okay, weirdo. Anyway, Bill wants to meet up at the Quarry tomorrow at noon. He said to bring your swimming trunks and any snacks you can smuggle out of your kitchen without your mom noticing. I think Beverly is bringing chips, and Ben mentioned something about chocolate Ding Dongs-”

“Do you wanna go to the movies instead?” Richie asked, bravery manifesting from sheer lack of caring. In the last hour, his emotions and cognition had been pulled apart in so many directions and squished back together like silly putty; he just couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. What was real, what wasn’t, it didn’t matter. He wanted to take Eddie to the movies, so he was going to ask. Simple as that.

“Uhhh, sure, but we’ll have to call everyone tonight and try and get them to change their minds.” Eddie answered, not fully sold on the idea but always one to hop on alongside Richie regardless.

“No, Eds, I mean just us.”

“But Bill-”

“Screw Bill. Can I take you to the movies or not?”

The rephrasing was bold, removing any doubt in Eddie’s mind of what Richie’s intentions were. It took a while for Eddie to answer, almost too long, long enough that Richie was about to begin back tracking when a small squeak interrupted him.

“Yeah.”

Richie’s heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t expecting this, or, well he hadn’t been expecting anything really. His courage had been fleeting and now he was quickly deflating under the pressure of following up.

“Y-yeah?” Richie confirmed, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously.

“You gonna pick me up on your bike? Let me ride on your handlebars?” Eddie teased, managing to diffuse some of the tension they both felt from this unspoken agreement to tip toe into dangerous waters together.

“That’s not the only thing I’ll let you ride.” Richie quipped.

“Good_bye_, Richie.” Eddie snapped with no real bite. Richie could picture the roll of his eyes that would mask the small smirk hiding behind those features, an action he loved.

“Bye, Eds.” Richie answered into the receiver, though the line had gone dead.

Distantly, Richie thought he could hear laughter, unhinged and maniacal, but as quick as it came it disappeared, replaced once again with the dial tone.


End file.
